


No Slaughter Without Laughter

by SonnyGietzel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant, grey!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:34:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonnyGietzel/pseuds/SonnyGietzel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lucius decided that Voldemort was the strangest, most difficult man he'd ever met, he might have been purposefully excluding someone from that observation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lucius blinked, shocked for a moment at the man's stealth abilities. Then he frowned lightly.

"Gabriel."

Gabe frowned for a moment, giving the blonde a sideways glance.

"Hey, lovely. You haven't been here in awhile."

Lucius took a step back, pulling at his arm which was trapped neatly in Gabe's deceptively strong grip. The attempt was half-hearted at best, and they both knew it.

Gabe pushed back a lock of black hair from his face, looking at Lucius with a light smirk and half-lidded eyes. "You shouldn't be here without telling me; I'm going to start thinking you don't want me around." He regarded Lucius curiously for a moment. "I'm surprised you haven't gotten snitched yet."

For a moment, Lucius was unable to distinguish between his urges to hit the man or lean into him, both of which would not have been very aristocratic; he finally settled in a questioning frown, which only caused Gabe to grin wider before pulling the blonde sharply into his chest, Lucius' head falling neatly onto his shoulder. The blonde stiffened in surprise, before his annoyance won over and he reached for his wand.

He nearly let out an indignant yelp as he felt a set of teeth bite into his earlobe.

"Hey, hey. Lets not get nasty, eh?" the voice next to his temple whispered.

Lucius huffed in vague annoyance, then frowned as he felt no familiar wand in the usual holster. He turned his head with a vicious glare, causing Gabe to laugh brightly.

"Ya didn't think I wouldn't have gotten it, lovely?" he said, twirling the wand in his right hand even as he kept Lucius trapped with the other. "I'd have to be kinda...slow for that. You going to listen now, eh?"

Lucius took a deep breath, clenching his fists tightly before relaxing forcefully.

"I am listening."

"Quite right." Gabe said, turning slightly so he could look into Lucius' eyes more comfortably even as the blonde glared on. "Now. What are you doing here? This is not a place for your kind. Ya stand out like a sore thumb."

Lucius couldn't quite argue with that logic.

"I have to meet someone."

Gabe's lips quirked. "So forthcoming, lovely. It's not a good enough reason, though. Ya could've easily gotten someone else to go the 'meeting' for ya. Come on now, what is it? Is it Darky?"

"Don't be so flippant, Gabriel." Lucius admonished, feeling his annoyance dip as the man's hand around his arm loosened lightly. He pulled back slightly so his glare could properly fall on the brunette, even though he knew it would bring about no effect. "It's none of your concern. I'm quite safe right now; my Lord's reach is extensive."

Gabe looked almost hurt for a moment. "That's not quite true, lovely; ya know so."

Lucius shook his head, pulling on his arm lightly and finally drawing it free. His lips twisted in a small sneer directed at no one in particular. "Perhaps. Even so, it is of no use to dwell on such things. My wand, if you would?"

Gabe's lips tightened in that way which Lucius knew meant he was particularly displeased with something.

"I come with you, yeah?" He said after a moment. When Lucius made a move to refuse the offer, he shook his head. "I'm not saying you're weak or anything, ya know so. Just…for my peace of mind? You'll be snitched, I tell you."

Lucius gave him a long look before sighing. Gabe smiled wide.

"Very well. But be sure to stay out of sight if someone comes. Merlin knows what could happen."

Gabe smiled happily, falling into place beside the blonde as they began walking down the alley. " Of course, lovely. Don't worry your pretty head about me. I do know what I do, in spite of what others think."

Lucius found himself grinning slightly, before quickly smothering the expression. There was silence for a while.

"My wand, then?"

"Oh, of course. Sorry! Here," Gabe said, passing over the wand with an apologetic small bow to the blonde, who took it graciously. "It's quite good make. Sturdy and powerful. Gregald's, yeah?"

Lucius nodded.

"He's got quite good business now-a-days. Probably cause of the boom in non-tracks in wands; those are getting on nerves, specially with Darky now…who knows, who knows!" His voice rose mockingly. "Oh my, oh my! Darkness, Death Eaters! Run, everybody! Run for your pathetic lives!" His imitation broke for a moment of unsteady laughter. "Non-tracks — they'll be the death of the light yet." He laughed again.

Lucius regarded the man silently, as he was wont to do, through the spectacle. It was rather fascinating to the blonde just how consistently unsteady the brilliant man could be. Every time he was under an extended exposure, he could feel himself floating off slightly in Gabriel's dizzying mind-web. It was unnerving at times, relaxing at others. Fascinating, truly.

"For real, yeah? Non-tracks could've been for the light too, of course. Except they're dark, they say." Gabe sneered in his half-lopsided way that seemed almost too lazy to truly convey any actual distaste; Lucius knew better than to disregard it. "Dark, or not light enough? Same thing for them, lovely, ya know so. It's why they aren't to be trusted.” The sneer dropped off into a somewhat unhinged, too-wide grin. “Least we're not hiding it. Stupid thing."

Lucius lay a hand on the man's arm lightly as he suddenly felt a shiver pass through him. The other went silent immediately. It was something Lucius appreciated; he knew when to talk and when to keep quiet. Gabe tensed minutely under Lucius' grip, throwing him a wary look.

"Somebody's close by right now," the blonde murmured. A sense of uneasiness rushed through him and he pushed it down, irritated, as he knew that Gabe would pick up on it before long. It wasn't like the brunette to do something heroic, even for Lucius, but the blonde felt more selfish than anything as he asked the man to step back. He intended Gabe should not fall in with his Lord; not because he feared for Gabe's life, or his own. The reasons were slightly more complicated than that – and rather more egocentric.

"I can go on well from here. It's not far," he said, drawing his hand back from Gabe. The other man made no move to pull it back, and that worried Lucius somewhat.

"Ya sure, lovely?" Gabe said, teasingly. Abruptly, his expression flickered and he shifted, reaching behind him and pulling out a taller, lighter, slimmer wand than Lucius' own as he crouched intuitively. Lucius felt his instincts suddenly scream at him and he launched to the side as a red curse landed against the wall behind him, shattering the rock and expelling dust in an explosive haze.

A high cackle filled the air, and Lucius picked himself up quickly before looking around for the brunette. He was nowhere to be seen.

This, of course, meant little with someone as good at stealth as Gabe was, but Lucius was given no more time to search out for him as Bellatrix suddenly appeared from the mist. Her hair and dress looked as unkempt for and wild as ever, and her crazed eyes reminded Lucius once again of why he preferred, as Gabe had so delicately put it, to send others here. She sneered.

"Well, well. Look who we have here. Our Lord was beginning to think you wouldn't come, cousin."

Lucius frowned. "Of course came. I have no reason to run from the summons of our Lord, Bellatrix."

She shrugged in her uncommitted way, twirling as she turned her back on him and began to walk back into the mist, into the rocky maze of the walls. He went silently behind her, giving a light thought to hope that Gabriel wasn't following him as he felt Voldemort's ward barriers sweep through him, tasting him for a moment before allowing passage.

It was a few more minutes of walking behind the Lestrange before Lucius began to see anything which reassembled his Lord's meeting place. A barren outcropping, emerging from the ground, was the only thing that signified the entrance to his underground lair. Lucius allowed himself an instant to wonder what comment Gabriel might have made of that, before continuing into the darkness below.

He didn't quite like the overbearing darkness which seemed to be a distinguishing factor in Voldemort's opinion of meeting places, but of course he had no choice in the matter. Bellatrix turned only once to see that he was still following before pushing open a large pair of doors and standing to the side.

Lucius walked into the brighter room in which he knew the meeting would take place. He looked to the side, where Voldemort sat comfortably in the largest divan in the room.

The man looked to be around 35 years of age. Lucius was slightly thrown every time he saw him, even as much as he tried to conceal it. He bowed at the waist.

"My Lord."

Voldemort regarded him silently, before flicking his wrist as a sign for Lucius to come closer. The blonde approached, wary of his master's bipolarity even as the man's eyes did not move from his face. The pale, slightly stretched skin of the man's face bespoke certain interest and anger, although what had inspired it Lucius had no idea. He hoped it had nothing to do with him.

He stopped a meter away from the other man's gracefully relaxed form; then, without prompting, dropped onto one knee. It was not necessary, but Lucius felt uncomfortable towering over this man, whose immense power licked and cowered his own without even conscious intention. Voldemort's eyes showed he could see the gesture for what it was, and they shone with arrogance for a moment before settling. It might have bothered Lucius, had it been anyone else, to feel himself so belittled. As it was, he considered this particular trait of Voldemort's slightly humiliating, but deserved to a degree. The man was established as the most powerful Wizard in England, if not in Europe. He had a right to be arrogant.

"Lucius. How pleasant to have you here. I was becoming worried you wouldn't be coming."

Lucius tensed.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I was detained for a moment as I came here."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed very slightly. Lucius would have missed it if he had not been so close. "Detained? How so?" His voice was cold and low.

"Merely an acquaintance, my Lord. Nothing of concern," he said, hurrying to reassure the man. It was not worry on his behalf on Voldemort's part, Lucius knew; rather, it was the possibility of somebody disobeying his orders not to harm his followers. It could mean a rat in the mist.

Voldemort's expression evened. "I see. Do try to avoid such happenings in the future, Lucius. We have a schedule to attend to."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said, lowering his gaze to the floor and breathing out a long, silent breath of relief, thinking the subject dropped.

"Who was it?"

Lucius' breath caught in his throat. He considered playing ignorant, but knew it would only infuriate Voldemort.

"Merely an old friend of mine. No one of great importance."

"Who was it, Lucius?" Voldemort's voice had gone cold. More worrisome, it now also held a note of interest. Lucius considered lying, but decided that it would draw too much attention if—when—Voldemort found out.

"A man named Gabriel, my Lord. Gabriel English."

Even with his eyes on the floor, Lucius could feel Voldemort's gaze on the back of his neck, digging into his spine.

"Bellatrix, won't you leave us alone for a moment? And close the door as you do."

Lucius' throat tightened. He felt the woman depart and the door slide shut nearly imperceptibly. Then, Voldemort's long, delicate fingers gripped his chin tightly, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"And who is this man, Lucius? He is not one of us, but I have not heard of him with Dumbledore. For you to consider him a friend, he must be rather...interesting. Why haven't you presented him to us?"

Lucius swallowed tightly. "He considers himself neutral, my Lord. He wishes to stay apart from his conflict."

Voldemort frowned. He was silent for a moment; then his lips formed into a teasing, cruel smile.

"Tell me Lucius." His tone sent shivers down the blonde's spine. "Is he a good friend of yours?"

Lucius considered the request; for it was a request. "Rather more of an acquaintance, my Lord, but I do hold certain sway over him."

"Quite as well, Lucius. Would you arrange a meeting, then? Two days from now, I expect to see you in your mansion with this friend." He let go of Lucius' chin to lean back against the chair comfortably. "We need as many followers as we can get. Dumbledore's army grows, even as the very Wizard's power diminishes. He is unwisely alienating quite a few powerful magical creatures, which I suspect will be inclined to help us." He turned his red eyes on Lucius' own icy blue, prodding lightly with Legilimency but not actually passing into Lucius' mind.

Lucius nodded. "It will be done, my Lord." He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from scowling.

There was silence for a moment before Voldemort spoke again.

"Now, what I really called you in for, Lucius. Snape has reported that Dumbledore and Longbottom aren't on the best of terms lately. Apparently, the boy is unsure about his side in the war."

Lucius looked up in shock. "Longbottom's doubting? I thought he of all people would have been an unshakeable proponent of the Light."

"So did I, I must admit. It would be interesting to see what has made him change his mind. Apparently, he's been acting strangely since last summer, when he graduated from Hogwarts." He gave Lucius a knowing look. "Invite him to your Summer Ball, Lucius; it would be interesting to see if he would accept. If he does, make an offer. He'd be useful, psychologically, to have on our side."

Lucius nodded. He knew that, although Longbottom was not particularly strong as a Wizard, a large number of people regarded him as a queen in Dumbledore's chess set. He was rather more like a sacrificial pawn; important in a specific scheme, but ultimately replaceable. Lucius knew that Voldemort would, if given half a chance, draw the boy in with cunning, captivating maneuvers. Dumbledore would have no room to act once the Dark Lord's claws were hooked in.

It was the same reason Lucius didn't want Gabriel to meet the Dark wizard, really. Both were so brilliant he had no doubt the younger man would become utterly enthralled with his Lord. And, inevitably, Lucius would lose him.

Voldemort leaned over suddenly.

"You seem troubled, Lucius. Anything I should know?"

Lucius' eyes shuttered. "No, my Lord. Nothing of importance. Merely thinking on what may have gone wrong with Dumbledore's scheme."

Voldemort regarded him slowly for a moment, before seemingly accepting the answer. "I believe it has to do with his own decrease in power. He has been moving too fast, too soon with the boy. Others are prepared for what he is asking of them, but Longbottom clearly hasn't been under his thrall as long or as intensely would have been necessary. I leave the boy to your discretion, Lucius. Do not lose him for us."

"Of course, my Lord. He will be courted carefully."

Voldemort smiled thinly before leaning backwards once again.

"You may go, Lucius. Tell Bellatrix, if she is still here, she can leave."

Lucius rose; he then bowed lightly before turning and walking to the door.

"And don't forget our dinner, Lucius. I would like to meet this friend of yours. I do hope you have spoken well of me."

Lucius nodded, not quite trusting his once again tight throat as he closed the door behind him as quietly as possible.

As he walked back out the narrow, dark halls, he saw no sign of Bellatrix. He was grateful for this; while he usually enjoyed verbally sparring with the woman, he was feeling rather stressed at the moment. Longbottom's apparent turn to the Dark could mean several things, and Lucius was unsure of how to proceed with the boy, even at Voldemort's insistence. It would be idiotic to give up such a chance, if it was such, but Lucius had doubts. Voldemort must have them too, of course, since he had suggested an invitation to the Ball, first, and to proceed from there. Even so, it was risky.

He emerged from the underground caverns into the damp, white blanket of the sky with a sense of foreboding lingering inside him. The ward barrier shimmered lightly; one wouldn't see it unless they knew it was there, but to Lucius it held a special sort of twinkle which he couldn't quite ignore. Passing through it brought about the same strange sense of tasting as before, and he breathed a small sigh as he came through to the rocky walls.

He walked silently but quickly down a few passages, down the same way he'd come originally with Bellatrix. He could feel, rather than see, other presences in the desolate, misty wasteland of a maze around him, but he did not feel any urge to seek them out.

"Something not go alright? You seem more even tense than usual, lovely. Didn't think it was possible."

Lucius jumped slightly, twirling angrily to glare at Gabe who had suddenly materialized beside him, grinning lightly.

"Don't. Do that."

"Sorry, lovely," Gabe said; he didn't sound very sorry but Lucius knew he was, in his own way. "What's the problem? Something happen?"

Lucius looked around him, suddenly feeling watched despite the fact that he knew of no one who would purposefully stay in this place longer than necessary – excepting Gabe and Voldemort. And the  _others,_  of course. He turned and began walking once again.

"Come with me. There is something we must discuss."

While Lucius half-expected the other man to question him further, Gabriel simply nodded at the request.

"Of course. Your place? Mine's a bit...engaged, at the moment," he said, grinning crookedly. Lucius chose to ignore the strange comment.

"I'll Apparate us inside the wards as soon as we're outside this place."

"Sure, sure," he said, walking faster to keep up with the blonde's rolling gait. "Hey listen. I have to be gone by midnight; Aurors got a tip. You think you could look it up for me? Being on watch is not good for business."

Lucius turned with a half-glare. "You're still on with that? I thought I told you to be careful." He sighed somewhat resignedly. "You know I can supply you with the money for living."

He'd made the same offer a few times now, each one turned down faster than the last. He wouldn't keep offering, wouldn't have done so in the first place, if he hadn't known two things.

One, that Gabriel had a thing for dangerous cons and Lucius worried he'd overstep himself; and two, the man barely spent any of his money at all. He only ever took enough to live off of until the next ruse came about and as a result, people liked working with him.

"It's not that; if it were for the money, I'd be rich by now. Besides, never liked the stuff." He scrunched his nose slightly, as if he smelled something unfavorable. "Thanks for the offer, though. It's taken as said."

Lucius hadn't expected the man to accept, but the refusal still stung slightly.

"Just so you know it stands," he said.

Gabe nodded; then, he suddenly began to whistle. It might have annoyed Lucius, except that the sound was so light and high-pitched, that he could barely hear it despite the somewhat unnerving silence surrounding them.

They walked for a few more minutes, accompanied by Gabriel's mindless, appropriate tune, down the misty passageways of the stone labyrinth until finally they came across the shallow portal which marked the edge of the Main Wards.

They passed through with nary a tingling sensation, and only the sudden lightening of the mood around them indicated that they were now Outside. Lucius stretched out his arm to Gabe, who took it with a light, mocking grin.

"Lead the way, lovely."

With a sharp turn and a loud crack, they Apparated.

 


	2. Chapter 2

One of these days Lucius was going to understand Gabriel.

One of these days.

“But that day is not today!” Came Gabriel's joyous voice from the other room, and Lucius had a moment to be startled before he was glaring at the wall that separated them.

“Are you reading my mind?”

“No, but you're muttering to yourself. Aloud, of course.” Gabriel sauntered into the room carrying a dark green robe which Lucius knew was his. His glare faltered somewhat as he realized the man had somehow taken it from his closet. Which was covered in wards and barriers.

“Where did you get that?” Perhaps he'd left it lying around? But Lucius knew even as he looked up into Gabriel's wide grin that he'd never do that.

“From your closet.”

Lucius rubbed at his forehead in a manner that was decidedly not even close to what most of his acquaintances would consider 'regal'. Not that Gabriel would care, of course.

“ _How_ did you get that?”

“From your closet!” Gabe proceeded, then, to exit the room jauntily, clutching the expensive, tailored cloth in a manner which was making Lucius cringe. If he didn't know that the man was actually being very careful about how he was treating his clothes – because he was always so very, very careful – he might have cursed him for his sheer audacity.

“That doesn't answer my question,” he muttered under his breath, unwilling to follow the other man upstairs to whatever it was he was doing. Lucius didn't want to know. He didn't.

He found himself walking up the stairs a few minutes later, hearing the running of water from one of the bathrooms in the left-most guest room. He sighed, knocking on the door.

“I'll be out in a few minutes! We don't want to give Darky a bad impression, now do we, lovely?”

A knot formed in Lucius' throat, but he pushed it down forcefully.

“Why do you care what the Dark Lord thinks? I thought you didn't want anything to do with him.”

There was no answer. Lucius frowned at the door. The door did not respond to his glare.

Ten minutes later, Lucius was still deciding whether to knock on the door again or go back downstairs to wait when the door to the bathroom opened and Gabriel came out, Lucius' robes on him. Lucius couldn't see where the man's old clothes were, but he was distracted from the thought by the sight of the man in fine clothing.

He'd never seen Gabriel wearing anything other than his decidedly worn black pants and grey shirt. They weren't _bad_ , but they did nothing to show off his figure, certainly not the way these robes did. He took a moment to blink, gather his thoughts, and was promptly back to glaring at the man again. Gabriel's eyes were half-lidded, his smile queerly wide, and Lucius wondered for a moment if the man's smile would at some point simply crawl off his face. And wasn't that a lovely thought.

“I don't.”

“What?” Lucius wasn't sure what that was referring to. He thought back for a moment before recalling his previous question. “Oh. Wait, you don't? Then why...” H gestured a the stolen garments before remembering he was supposed to be angry. “How did you get these robes?”

“I care about what _you_ think, lovely,” Gabriel replied, his eyes wide and happy, as if he didn't cause Lucius' mouth to tighten when he said that sort of thing. “And you care about Darky.”

“Don't call him that,” Lucius admonished absently, not actually expecting the man to pay any mind to the comment.

Gabe shrugged. “I won't to his face, if that makes ya happier.”

Lucius shuddered in terror. The thought that the man might call the Dark Lord, 'Darky' to his face hadn't honestly occurred to him, and he was glad and horrified by the realization that he would – would have done it.

“Don't. I would greatly appreciate it.”

Gabriel laughed, the hyena-like timbre subdued. “I wouldn't do that to ya, lovely. Ya know so.”

“I don't, not really.” He did expect it, but that didn't meant that he ever actually knew what Gabriel was planning. He never had absolutely any idea what that man was planning.

“We oughta go now, if we want to be 30 minutes early,” Gabriel suddenly chirped, glancing at his wrist. Lucius wondered why, as the man had nothing on it.

“Why would we want to be 30 minutes early?”

Gabriel shot him a look which had part of Lucius bristling and part of him feeling like he'd missed something big. It wasn't a particularly common look, from Gabe to him, but it had happened on enough occasions that Lucius knew that he was probably missing something big.

“Did I miss something?”

“...no,” Gabriel replied, but his grin had dimmed somewhat and he looked slightly troubled. “No. But we still need to be 30 minutes early.”

Lucius blinked. Then again. He sighed and closed his eye briefly, wondering if he would survive the night.

“Very well. Let us go, then.”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, five minutes after they had arrived – and Gabriel had insisted they had to be sitting at the table almost as soon as they had – a House elf arrived bearing the news that the Dark Lord would be entering the room shortly.

He didn't need to be allowed inside, of course.

Lucius felt his expression blanch slightly as the doors to the dining room were suddenly opened, and his Lord stood for a moment at the entrance, peering at them in what Lucius could only describe as shock. He'd never seen it on the man's face before, and it was certainly a very subtle kind of shock, but Lucius was certain that that was what it was. It didn't fit him, to be honest.

Then, Gabriel was suddenly standing and walking over to the figure by the door, his posture tall and elegant, his expression...normal.

“Lord Voldemort.”

If Lucius hadn't known Gabriel as well as he had, he might have said the man's tone was polite. As it was, he knew when Gabriel was being polite.

This wasn't it. He had no idea what it was, however, so he wasn't sure what his Lord would think; he didn't dare look in his direction, for fear of finding himself under scrutiny. There was also something odd about the way he pronounced his lord's name – like he found it _funny_.

“Mr. English.” The Dark Lord did not sound happy. He never did sound happy, Lucius admitted – maybe pleased, on occasion, but never happy – but he sounded less happy than usual. He wondered why that was. He hoped Gabriel hadn't done anything to offend the man yet – he didn't quite sound _upset_ , though, so that was a good sign.

The was a moment of silence during which Lucius finally gathered the courage to look in the two men's direction. The scene was one which he might have enjoyed might he not have actually been in the same room with the two men; perhaps in a pensieve, after all this had been resolved.

The Dark Lord looked vaguely annoyed, although it was clear that the annoyance was growing with every second. Gabriel looked...odd. Disappointed, somehow. Which would explain why the Dark Lord was looking more annoyed by the second.

And Lucius didn't think it was at all safe to allow them their little staring match. If only for the sanctity of his dining room. He really was very proud of his dining room, and spell burns and destroyed walls would detract from its usual pristine beauty.

“My Lord, if I may suggest taking a seat?”

For a moment he feared the man might curse him, as he turned to look at him with the annoyance still clear on his face, but before he could decided whether ducking would be taken as an offense, Gabriel was suddenly covering his line of sight.

“Please. Do take a seat. I hear the House Elves have worked very hard on a most _excellent_ meal.” Gabriel's voice was pleasant and polite. Gabriel was never pleasant and polite.

Lucius hoped he would survive the night.

The Dark Lord remained standing for a few more seconds before apparently deciding to acquiesce. He moved to the place at the top of the table and Lucius was very glad that for a moment the Dark Lord was not paying attention to Gabriel, because the man's expression had shifted for the tiniest of moments into a still, reptilian sort of stare. Lucius couldn't imagine the Dark Lord reacting well to that sort of look – it wasn't exactly aggressive, but it certainly wasn't friendly, either.

He honestly had not expected this kind of reaction to each other.

Once seated, Voldemort turned to look at Gabriel once again, who merely turned part-ways in his direction, as if waiting for the other man to start the conversation.

“Lucius tells me you are friends.” If it was meant to be a question, Lucius wasn't sure what the right answer would have been, but Gabriel simply smiled. A small, polite sort of smile.

Lucius wanted to run away from the room.

“In a manner of speaking,” he responded after a moment of silence. “Our relationship is unconventional, in certain ways, but I suppose the label 'friend' would be...appropriate.”

There was something about his tone that clued Lucius in almost as quickly as he watched the Dark Lord frown, and he could only be glad that Voldemort did _not_ know Gabriel was well as Lucius did, because else he would know that Gabriel had essentially just called him slow. He only needed to have added “- for some people” to have the insult out in the open, but even he was apparently not suicidal enough to do that.

Lucius was going to strangle Gabriel. In private, of course.

“It seems I have done something to offend you,” Voldemort eventually said, his hands clasped together in front of him and his voice deceptively concerned, as if he actually cared about the man's sensitivities. He didn't, of course, but he _sounded_ like he did, which Lucius supposed was what counted.

There was silence for a moment, and Lucius turned to Gabriel only to have his gaze met by the other man's. There seemed to be a question in his expression, but Lucius couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was and so he ended up simply returning the look.

Eventually, Gabe turned back to the Dark Lord, his expression softening somewhat from the polite mask into something resembling his usual appearance, although it was still nothing Lucius would call 'normal'.

“Forgive me, it seems I have overstepped my—” his eyes flickered to Lucius momentarily “—myself.” His smile was less perfect this time, more like the slightly disjointed grin he usually wore. Just slightly more, but enough that Lucius could feel himself relaxing. “I did not expect myself to have to attend this kind of dinner on such short notice.” There was still an insult in there, Lucius could feel it, but it was less hostile. More of a complaint, if he was feeling generous.

Voldemort clearly wasn't. “My apologies,” he replied, not sounding particularly apologetic even if he was saying the words, which was already a lot. Lucius didn't think he'd ever heard the man apologize before, not without it being blatantly sarcastic. “I had not expected your schedule to be so full that a dinner would interrupt any plans.”

“Clearly.” And although his tone was dry, the near deadly tension around the two men was dissipating, somehow. “I suppose I shouldn't expect such basic courtesy from a man such as yourself.”

“Such as myself?” The Dark Lord looked almost _amused_. Murderous, but amused.

“A busy, busy man, of course.”

The Dark Lord was by now leaning forward in his chair, his expression an odd mixture between furious and entertained. Lucius supposed it was an expression he himself often wore when around Gabriel. Less homicidal perhaps, but similar.

“You must think yourself quite capable, English.” It was almost a snarl, as far as expressions went for the Dark Lord. Gabriel smiled, for a second just the slightest bit too wide.

“I would never suppose such things.”

“You do not have to suppose things to know them.”

“I am sure there are people who live their lives in such a fashion.”

Voldemort leaned back in his chair, frowning. “Such a mentality is liable to destroy a person.”

Gabriel's expression had tightened. “A person should know what they get into.”

“Most people never do.”

“Most people are fragile.”

“Narrow-minded people, perhaps.”

Gabriel looked amused. “A mind is never narrow unless limits are imposed on it from an outside source.”

“Limits are useful.”

“Fragile people are only ever useful for a short amount of time, if even that.”

“And that's why there are so many of them.”

Lucius was sure they were talking about something important, but he had no idea what it could possibly be. He suspected it had to do with politics and ideology, but that was as far as he could decipher. And, despite the fact that the deadly atmosphere had ceded, he could feel himself becoming...upset.

They were getting along. In his strange way, his Lord was _liking_ Gabriel.

This was exactly what he didn't want to happen.

Well, the fact that they weren't killing each other was nice, but now they were getting along.

His eye roved over to Gabriel, and he had to revise his opinion.

His Lord might be liking Gabriel, but Gabriel did not seem particularly inclined to return the sentiment. It was in the tilt of his head, his eyes still slightly too wide to be considered anything particularly positive. He might even say that Gabriel was becoming frustrated.

Thankfully, at that moment the food suddenly appeared on the table, and Gabriel was quick to disengage from the Dark Lord to smile over towards Lucius.

“Would you, lovely?”

Lucius _would_ strangle the man. He didn't allow his features to respond to the familiar moniker, but he was sure he'd grimaced slightly. He didn't dare look in his Lord's direction.

He gestured towards Voldemort instead. “My Lord, what would you like?”

It took a few moments for Voldemort to answer, and when he did his tone was very restrained. “A bit of everything, Lucius.” His tone as he said his name was odd, but Lucius did _not_ want to know why that was. He tapped on the table and the food appeared on his Lord's plate. He then proceeded to tap once more to fill Gabriel's plate – mostly with meats, as the man preferred – and then once for himself.

“You dine here often, I presume?”

Gabriel didn't look in Voldemort's direction, proceeding instead to begin cutting into the meat as he answered. “Often isn't the word I would use.”

The Dark Lord's grip tightened briefly on his silver fork. “And what word would you use?”

“Not that often.”

Lucius wondered if it would be considered uncouth to stab himself with a spoon to escape the room. Would it be considered more or less a faux pas if he stabbed himself or a guest? He was sure everyone would be very understanding of his situation.

Amazingly, however, Voldemort didn't seem to be growing angrier. Oh, he looked murderous enough already, but no curses had been cast, which for the Dark Lord meant he was positively enjoying himself.

“You look very comfortable to only have dined here a few times.”

“I would look comfortable anywhere.”

Voldemort's mouth twisted in a mockery of a smile. “You look very comfortable in Lucius's clothes. Did he lend them to you?”

“No,” and this smile was positively vicious. “I took them out of his closet. He doesn't mind.”

Lucius very well _did_ mind, but at his Lord's glance towards him merely smiled politely. Thankfully – or not thankfully, Lucius wasn't sure anymore – Voldemort's gaze swept back to his guest almost immediately.

“You two are very...close.”

Gabriel looked like he wanted to say something snarky, but Lucius' glare managed to make him reconsider. Lucius was sure the Dark Lord had caught the intent anyways.

“You could say that.” Gabriel finally manged to take a bite of his food, and his expression turned contended for a moment as he shot Lucius a warm, thankful look. Lucius felt his expression soften somewhat, although he stiffened back up as he felt Voldemort observing them.

“How did you two come to meet?”

“Lord Voldemort, you look very young for your age. Was it the Horcruxes?”

And Lucius decided it would not be improper to duck, as Voldemort was suddenly on his feet and pointing his wand in Gabriel's direction, his expression no longer amused. Gabriel had also jumped back, and his wand was out and directed at his Lord's chest, his expression happier than Lucius had seen since Voldemort had entered the room. Voldemort looked furious.

His voice, however, was icy calm. “How do you know about those?”

Gabriel sighed. “You ask such boring questions. I thought you'd like some better entertainment for now.”

“How do you know about those!”

“Don't worry; the only other person who knows is dead.” He grinned widely, and Lucius saw the Dark Lord's expression flicker minutely at the odd look. He'd have to get accustomed soon to Gabriel's too-wide grins, or he'd never be able to look at the man properly, Lucius thought.

“Did you kill him?”

“Something like that.”

They were silent for a moment before Voldemort's eyes suddenly widened.

“That wand...”

“It's mine,” Gabriel interrupted cheerfully, his teeth bared in what was not so much a smile as a snarl. “Not just as far as it being in my possession. This one's mine. Dumbledore still has the one that can be moved around.”

“You're lying. There is no other wand. That _must_ be it.”

If Voldemort started casting Avada Kedavra around the room, Lucius would be most displeased. Gabriel simply smiled.

“Go ahead, then. Disarm me. Then try using the wand; it won't even let you light a _Lumos_.”

Voldemort looked like he might kill Gabriel anyway, but he eventually simply scowled.

“ _Expelliarmus_.”

The wand flew from Gabriel's hand and landed in Voldemort's grip, who for a moment looked too pleased for Lucius' peace of mind. Then, he pointed the wand at Gabriel, who simply stood in front of him without flinching or looking like he was particularly interested in being there at all.

“ _Crucio_.”

For a moment, Lucius felt his breath catch. Then, when after a moment nothing happened, Gabe began to laugh. It was his usual odd cackle, and Lucius one again caught Voldemort's expression jumping.

“It won't work. Nothing will. Good try, though; you really are quite powerful.” And Gabriel finally, finally sounded like he might actually start liking Voldemort in return. Suddenly, his wand jumped from Voldemort's hand and landed in Gabriel's, who peered at it lovingly for a moment before gesturing back at the table. “We oughta sit down and continue eating. Why, Lord, you haven't even touched your food.”

Voldemort glared. “Why do you know about the Horcruxes?” He seemed annoyed at the wand – although Lucius had no idea what that was about either, why was that wand interesting? – but his expression was calmer. “No one should know about them.”

Gabriel passed a hand through his hair. “I met your diary. He wasn't very nice, but he was quite forthcoming with information. Surely he has told you about me?”

Voldemort blinked. Then he frowned thoughfully. “He said he met a child. A girl.”

“Yes, Ginny Weasley.” Gabe waved his hands dismissively. Lucius frowned at the name. Why would the Weasley girl have his Lord's diary? “But they only met for a few minutes. What about Harry?”

Voldemort suddenly blanched – from fury or shock Lucius could not say.

“ _You_?!”

“Now, now, Voldemort, we have much to talk about and this place is not it.”

“ _You're supposed to be dead!_ ”

“Hey, so are you. Don't blame this one on me.”

“ _You aren't supposed to be here!_ ”

“I have _every_ right to be here,” Gabriel snarled. “More than _you_ , certainly.”

Voldemort went quiet, his glare sharpening until his eyes were two slits of red.

“You did this.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

Gabriel sighed. “This really, really isn't the time.”

Voldemort seemed about to start cursing everything in sight. “ _Tell me, now_.”

“No.”

“ _Potter!_ ”

“Using that last name isn't going to make me want to tell you,” Gabriel replied, smirking.

Voldemort's eyes suddenly turned to where Lucius was standing next to the table. Lucius felt himself blanch, but before he could move Gabriel was suddenly standing in front of him, glaring murderously at the Dark Lord.

“ _I would kill you_.”

“You will tell me.”

“Not here.”

They stood at a stand-still for a few seconds which felt like hours to Lucius, before Voldemort scowled viciously and then moved to take his spot back at the table. Gabriel eyed him warily before moving to sit. Lucius once again took his place.

One of these days, Lucius was going to understand Gabriel.

One of these day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!  
> So...this story is growing a plot; I didn't mean for it to do that. We'll see what happens!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your comments and kudos! They are always very, very appreciated! You are all awesome :)  
> Please feel free to leave any opinions, criticism and feedback! This story is not beta-read, so some mistakes get by me. 
> 
> You will notice Gabriel's speaking patterns have been toned down; he does still speak somewhat oddly, but at least now it isn't as strange to read. Hopefully it is a welcome change.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why aren’t I surprised that you and he are best friends?” Lucius asked warily, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair. It wasn’t elegant. Gabe smirked and Barty chuckled beneath his breath.

“Dunno, lovely. You're smart like that, I reckon,” Gabe sidled up next to him, laying his arm lightly around Lucius’ back rest and smiling floatily at Barty, who toppled into the chair next to him. Lucius restrained the urge to scold the man in his poor manners, and beside him Gabe chortled in wry amusement at his frustration with his guests. If they could even be called that.

“Don't be like that, lovely. Ya know he means no harm.” He gestured towards Barty, who threw a frankly not very reassuring smile their way. Too many crooked teeth, and Lucius found himself wondering why he was dealing with this. The shallow warmth radiating from the body next to him was a swift reminder.

“You say you have something for us,” Lucius asked finally, after a few seconds of silence which had quickly become filled by Barty’s tuneless humming. The scraggly man’s eyes brightened at his words and he twisted sideways on the chair so he was facing Lucius, draped casually and somehow managing not to fall off. Lucius was grudgingly impressed at the man’s limberness.

“Our Lord has a job for you, Lucius,” he hissed, and glanced at Gabriel, whose expression was soft and vacant. Lucius had often found himself lost in such a gaze, but now focused as well as he could manage on the other blonde’s words. Gabriel was listening. He was always listening.

“What is it?”

“He needs you to organize a separate…ah… _reunion_ , after your Ball.” The words were drawled idly and somewhat mockingly, as if Barty found it amusing that Lucius would organize one of the most anticipated and influential pureblood gatherings in England. Not that it was _him_ , per say, but that it was done at all. Lucius was sure Gabe appreciated the sentiment much more than he did. _They_ didn’t have to plan the whole blasted thing, after all.

“I assume he has a list of particular people he wishes invited to this event?” He knew the answer already, of course, and was mentally calculating how exactly he was going to allude to the private after-party to the public. He did not doubt there would be rumors, regardless of how much he managed to control their spread, and wondered fleetingly if that was not Voldemort’s sole purpose for requiring it. The man truly paid no mind to the amount of headaches he caused Lucius.

Barty sighed, as if he expected more from Lucius’ question, or as if he perhaps expected him to have the list already. Then he flicked his wand – which Lucius had not noticed him having drawn from anywhere, an alarming realization – and a scroll appeared in Lucius’ hands. He did not open it; there was no point, as he could not peruse it yet properly and would have been wasting his time even if he had. It took much more than a few minutes to prepare one of his Lord’s…after-parties.

He placed the scroll in the table beside him and turned once again to Barty, who was trading somewhat worrisome smiles – wide, flickering, gaping smiles – with Gabe. He coughed lightly, although as they both turned to him with entirely too obviously pleased expressions he wondered why he ever bothered. He could just as well cast Levicorpus on them and flick them out of his mansion, and he was sure it would register on the same level. He suddenly stiffed as he felt a light hand run through his hair, threading through the strands carefully.

“We appreciate your tact, lovely,” Gabe murmured, his voice low and liquid like Lucius had only heard a handful of times, placating and insidious. “It's far too missing from most people nowadays. It's good on ya. Don’t think we don't see that.”

Lucius closed his eyes for a moment before reaching upwards and pulling Gabe’s hand away. He lacked his usual annoyed sternness, and he knew Gabe could feel it, but could not bring himself to mind even with Barty’s eyes on them; eyes which he knew saw more than most people gave credit for, than most others’ did, only because he recognized them as Gabriel’s own. He might have judged Barty as stupid, crazy or mindless, but he would never make that mistake about one of Gabriel’s friends.

“It is eerie how well you can read me, sometimes,” he said, resigned even as Gabriel’s hand tightened on his for a few seconds, before letting him go.

Gabe gave a low laugh, and Barty rolled over onto his back, staring at them guilelessly. Lucius was only glad he was keeping his feet off the furniture; it was the only reason he was allowing the man his silliness and had not yet pushed him onto the floor, even if he _was_ Gabriel’s best friend. There was only so much he would tolerate, after all; he was sure Gabe would understand.

“Welp,” Barty suddenly said, his lips popping on the last syllable of the word in a way which Lucius found irritating and, as such, was sure had been at least half the purpose of the action – Barty had proven himself deliberate enough to warrant the thought. “Better be going. You know how our Lord doesn’t like being kept waiting.”

“I take it Darky’s still as impatient as ever?” Gabe snickered. Lucius shot him a half surprised, half wary look.

“You've met with him again?” The thought caused something inside him to tighten uncomfortably. He ignored it.

“Nah,” Gabe replied dismissively, shucking his feet childishly as he followed after Barty, who was moving towards the edge of Lucius’ anti-Apparition Wards. It would have worried him that the man knew where they were, as it was clear that he did, but he could no longer dissuade himself from the notion that Barty was anything other than an anomaly. Lucius sighed heavily. _Another_ anomaly.

Although probably never as anomalous a Gabriel, he amended quickly as he took in the brunette’s wide grin and enthusiastic wave as Barty spun and cracked away.

Then they were alone, and Gabe turned to Lucius with a frankly worrying look in his eyes, and the blonde hastened to feel his wand in its holster. Yes, it was still there, and of course Gabriel noticed the motion and gave a somewhat truncated laugh in response.

“What, don't trust me, lovely?” His voice was mocking as he ambled idly back to where Lucius stood, his hands pressed into his pockets and his smile like molasses. Lucius narrowed his eyes on him, wary of that expression. It wasn’t dangerous, but it was troublesome. And Lucius had had enough of that with Barty, thank-you-very-much.

“No,” he replied simply, and ignored the mild stab he felt at the vague flicker of pain in Gabriel’s expression. He sometimes forgot the man was rather more sensitive than Lucius’ usual acquaintances, and that words said in thoughtless jest could actually _reach_ him. Lucius was not a man to apologize, however, and so instead he leaned over slightly and pressed a hand to Gabriel’s neck for a moment, before drawing it back and then wandering back to the kitchen. He perched on the counter for a few moments, hoping and wondering that Gabe had understood the gesture for what it was, when he suddenly felt a body press behind him lightly. He tensed, waiting for arms to wrap around him as he was sure would follow, but only felt the man’s head suddenly drop onto his shoulder.

Gabriel’s breath smelled sweeter than he’d thought.

Gabe moved away a few seconds later, and pranced about the room as if he hadn’t just invaded Lucius’ personal space like nothing was wrong about that, and as if Lucius had not just let him. It was a bit too far for the blonde to properly assimilate, and he merely poured himself a cup of tea and sat down at the table with it, choosing not to address the issue as far as would be allowed. Gabriel seemed equally pleased at the decision to leave the subject untouched – that of the slight and the amendment – and merely proceeded to explore Lucius’ pantry for the next few minutes, as the blonde sipped daintily from his cup.

He didn’t think the elves would be much pleased when they were allowed to see the mess Gabriel had no doubt wrought with the plates and cutlery. Lucius himself dared not look at how he _knew_ the man had arranged his knives, or he might be tempted to rearrange them himself with the perpetrator serving as a live model. All in the name of art, of course.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a-Barty!   
> So, I've had sort of random snippets floating around my computer for a while, and I sort of wanted them to make sense with the plot that's sort of growing in this story, like make it all a proper storyline and shiz --which they could be, make no mistake!-- but I decided to try something else.   
> I think what I'm gonna do is try making a sorta out-of-order story, so basically posting snippets and scenes which belong in the story and the universe but which are not necessarily in chronological order. I'll try to make it so they are identifiable, but if they aren't I apologize! As I've said before, this story is intended to be less rigorous than my other ones, and if I focus too much on order and writing out plot points for later and plot and all that fun stuff it'll be less relaxing to do. So yeah! You get this weird universe plot story thing! Maybe eventually I'll organize it properly, ya never know.   
> It also means that the chapters will probably be shorter, but be posted more often. Probably. Hopefully. Again, we'll see!  
> Hopefully you all like it. Any questions and comments are always welcome! Thank you for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Lucius flinched as he heard the front door slam shut, gritting his teeth as he heard the shuffle of Gabriel's no doubt dirty shoes. At least his wards had alerted him the man was close, or else he might have thought he was being invaded by gnomes. In front of him, Rodolphus shot him a curious look.

“Expecting company, Lucius?”

“No,” he responded as calmly as he could, despite feeling his annoyance grow as footsteps approached them. “Excuse me for a moment as I...take care of our guest.”

He hadn't really managed to step out of the room before he found himself chest-to-chest with bright green eyes and a wide smile, almost covered with what Lucius was relatively certain was mud and what he thought might be coal. He had a scent of burnt wood and dirt clinging to him, as well as what seemed to be small sticks and thistles stuck in his hair. No comment on the patches of red Lucius could see peeking through some of the dirt on Gabriel's skin; he didn't care. He _didn't._

“'ello, lovely. Do you mind if I use your shower? Your shampoo is lovely as always, and I can never find a better body wash anywhere! I really must impinge on ya.”

Lucius blinked a few times before feeling his annoyance ebb somewhat as he took in the other man's tattered coat and generally ragged appearance. There were dark purple circles lining his eyes and he looked truly exhausted, despite his upbeat humor. Lucius dreaded whatever it was that Rodolphus was thinking at the moment, having this unusual figure here with them. He sighed.

“Go. There are towels-”

“In the second closet to the left, I know.” His smile had softened somewhat from the slight deliriousness it had been carrying. “Thanks, lovely. You won't even know I was there, ya know so.”

And before Lucius could formulate any response he had swept away up the stairs. Lucius stood there for a moment longer before turning back to Rodolphus, who had a slightly disgusted look in his face. Lucius wanted to control his instinctual desire to defend Gabriel's...less-than-careful appearance, but Rodolphus' clear disdain didn't quite sit well with him.

“Gabriel English, a... close acquaintance of mine. He's usually quite a bit less...” he gestured towards the stairs, not knowing what word could possibly express quite what he wanted to express. “We've met with our Lord. He'll most likely be joining us.” That wasn't exactly a true statement, but it was an easy way to gain Rodolphus' immediate respect. As expected, the other man's expression cleared abruptly, to be replaced with a considering stare.

“Our Lord approved?”

“Yes,” Lucius simply replied. He certainly would not be the one to recount the little dinner the three of them had shared. It was not exactly what he would call a 'fond' memory. “He may sometimes appear somewhat...disorganized, but that is simply a... _quirk_ of his.” That was as good of an explanation as he was ever going to get, honestly. Lucius wasn't proud.

Rodolphus, however, nodded back, accepting now that Gabriel had been vouched for, and went back to sipping his tea. Lucius took a fortifying breath and sat back down on his chair, glad that that disaster had been avoided, at least for the moment. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the carefully prepared food, and Lucius began to slowly relax.

“So,” Rodolphus said finally, sipping delicately from his cup. “How long have you two been fucking?”

Lucius sputtered, abruptly choking on the crumpet he’d just swallowed and managing not to asphyxiate only through various minutes of clandestine coughing. Rodolphus, for his part, looked only mildly amused at what his statement had wrought.

“What?” Lucius finally managed, his mind running blank. Rodolphus snorted.

“How eloquent,” he murmured, bringing a piece of apple to his lips and chewing finely.

Lucius fought to control his expression, which was jumping erratically through the entire expanse of those human emotions which could properly be expressed through one’s face. It was entirely unflattering, he was sure.

“We are not…” he couldn’t say the word. “What in Merlin’s name made you say such a thing?” He tried to gather up some of his dignity, even as it had been nearly sprayed out on the counter with the bread. Rodolphus raised a single eyebrow, managing to convey both his incredulity and distaste in the simple action.

“You do not have to hide it from me. I know everything else, after all.”

“I am not hiding it! There is nothing to hide!” Lucius’ control broke through somewhat at his voice climbed in pitch until he was nearly squeaking. “That is preposterous!”

“What is, lovely?” The last person who Lucius wanted to see at the moment suddenly swept into the room, and Lucius once again had to control his reflective urge to choke.

Gabriel was wearing one of Lucius’ own robes, a deep emerald which stunningly complemented his eyes. The bath had done wonders for his skin, Lucius caught himself observing, as his gaze roved over the man’s face, his lazy grin and eternally half-mast eyes. His black hair was still damp, and hung around his face in curls Lucius had never before seen with such clarity, framing the sharp turn of his cheekbones and highlighting just how pale he truly was, one shade delving into the realm of sickliness and Lucius couldn’t help the flash of worry that thought caused him.

He could see from the corner of his eyes how Rodolphus’ jaw had dropped in a manner which was rather unbecoming of him, and had only a moment to feel satisfied that he was not the only one struck speechless by Gabriel before said man suddenly came up behind him and lay a soft, warm hand on his neck.

The shiver that ran up his spine was one which Lucius was sure the other man could feel.

There was a moment of silence, within which Lucius managed to regain his bearings enough to force himself to breath normally and fix his expression, trying not to be too obvious about committing the image to memory. Gabriel simply smiled, his expression revealing nothing of what he thought of how utterly he had rendered Lucius and Rodolphus entirely, inexplicably, speechless. He had to know, had to be aware, but he didn’t even blink to show it.

“Rodolphus has…insinuated,” he said finally, turning slightly to the other man, who was still staring at Gabriel as if he would disappear at any moment and be replaced by the dirty, ragged man he’d seen only a few minutes earlier, “that our relationship is of a…sexual nature.”

Rodolphus managed to regain his focus enough to shoot Lucius a somewhat taunting look at his description of the vulgar word he’d used, but clearly could not do much more. Behind him, Gabriel laughed. It sounded wrong to Lucius, too…elegant, too melodic, lacking the usual background cackle that always made him feel like there was another joke Gabe was laughing at, something Lucius had missed.

“No,” Gabe replied, rolling the sound languidly, as if hesitant to complete the word. “Lovely here wouldn’t give me the time of day, I’m sure.”

And for the first time since he’d met him, Lucius couldn’t help but feel, at the man’s somewhat wistful tone, that his customary title was ill-deserved. His hands tightened on his legs, curled into fists which he carefully kept unmoving lest he do something silly, like reach out for Gabriel’s hand.

Rodolphus’ eyes had not moved from Gabriel’s face for even an instant. “A pity,” he drawled, his voice heavy like molasses and his eyes dark, “for you are truly undeserving of such treatment.” He stood from his seat and strolled, casually, purposefully, around the table. His expression was predatory, heated; and he looked more like his wife at that moment than Lucius thought he’d ever seen from him, wanting and used to having that desire fulfilled with nary a thought or effort. “Perhaps you would be willing to spend a day with me, instead?”

And Lucius would have felt he deserved it, would have felt it appropriate, that for all of his attempts at keeping Gabriel for himself it would take a vulgar word and a bath to rip him away. He could see, from his periphery, as Rodolphus stretched out a hand towards Gabriel; Gabriel, who was always so quick to touch, so insistent in being physically present, and who for all his careful intentions and warm affect had only ever been coldly rejected. And how perfect it was that Rodolphus would offer the man the one thing Lucius had not, could not; an openly expressed, requested – desired – touch.

Gabriel’s voice was surprisingly flat.

“No,” he said, and the word was cut off, truncated, and Lucius wished he could see his expression because he’d never heard the other man sound like that.

Uncomfortable.

“It’s very kind of you to offer, truly,” and there was a bit of the fluidity back, his voice loping back into the sense of wry amusement he always wore like a second skin, teasing and arrogant, “but I’m sure I wouldn’t be good company.”

“Nonsense. Lucius would not allow you if you were as such.” Rodolphus sounded rather confused at how quickly Gabriel had declined his offer, and Lucius had to admit to feeling similarly out of his depth. He would have expected Gabriel to go with him, if for nothing else that for a chance to have fun; Rodolphus radiated danger of the sort Gabriel usually ran to with open arms, and Lucius could not for the life of him imagine him turning away from that so easily.

“I’m afraid he might have given you too good of an opinion of me,” Gabriel replied, and his tone was once again light, but his grip on the back of Lucius’ neck had tightened, “but regardless, I must decline. Lovely,” he said, suddenly dropping beside Lucius’ arm at the table and gazing at him with a small smile, the corner of his eyes tight and thin, “I’m going to have to borrow these robes. People to meet, scams to plan, ya know how it goes.” Below the table, one of his hands dropped on Lucius’, which were still curled into fists, and gently pried it open to tap at his palm.

Lucius could do nothing but nod. “Be careful with it,” he murmured tiredly, because he could not ask him to be careful himself. Gabriel’s smile widened into something resembling his usual face-splitting grin, as if sensing Lucius’ true meaning, and he tightened his grip fleetingly on his hand before stepping away. He nodded towards Rodolphus and then left the room, gliding away quickly and quietly.

The room was silent for a moment, and then Rodolphus sighed, a wistful, disbelieving sigh as Lucius had not heard of the man in years.

“Why do you always get the best ones?”

Lucius blinked.

“Pardon?”

Rodolphus crossed his arms and shot him a half-hearted glare, too tempered by resignation to truly indicate much anger.

“You’ve always gotten the best people after you.” He snorted. “And to make it worst, you aren’t ever even trying.”

Lucius couldn’t stop himself from gaping.

“What in Merlin's name...? You get everyone you want!” He felt childish in saying it, but he resented the implications of what the other man had stated.

Rodolphus shook his head, ambling back to his chair before plopping down on it in a frankly classless manner. He then propped his head in his hands and gave another, longer sigh. Lucius felt his eyebrow twitch.

“You got Narcissa, whose hand you weren’t even vying for…”

“You say that like you didn’t get Bellatrix, who was just as wanted-”

“You got Narcissa.” And his tone of voice made it clear that there was no comparison. “You didn’t even have to try. She practically dropped herself on your lap.”

“She did not…!”

“Everyone could see it, there’s no point in denying it,” Rodolphus brushed off his indignation with a swing of his hand. “Then you got our Lord…”

Lucius sputtered. “I haven’t got -”

“You’re his favorite,” Rodolphus replied, exasperated at having to explain through what he clearly considered Lucius being dense. “You barely have to show up and he dismisses the rest of us like we don’t matter.”

“No he doesn’t! And why would that even be a good thing--”

“He listens to your opinions much more carefully that he does to any of ours, that’s for sure,” Rodolphus continued as if he hadn’t heard Lucius’ protests, sounding slightly disgruntled, “and now you have that man. Seriously, Lucius, what’s your secret?”

Lucius delicately refrained from gritting his teeth. “Maybe that I don’t make ridiculous theories about other peoples’ lives?”

“It can’t be how attractive you are, because I’m more attractive,” and Lucius was honestly going to have to go to St. Mungos for a check-up if he continued to choke like this, “nor how powerful or intelligent, because I surpass you in those features as well.”

“Maybe it’s my arrogance,” Lucius mumbled grumpily, resisting the urge to hit his head against the table only because he considered such a move too uncouth, no matter how appropriate, “because clearly you don’t have that.”

“Is it your hair?” Rodolphus’ eyes suddenly alighted on his head. “It’s one thing I will admit you have a slight advantage over me.”

“No it is not my hair,” Lucius snarled, thoroughly frustrated, feeling the last of his patience beginning to fray. “Rodolphus, don't you have a meeting with our Lord?” It wouldn't actually start for at least an hour, but Lucius was willing to bet that Rodolphus didn't know that.

The other man perked up. “I do! Thank you for reminding me, Lucius. I nearly forgot, and that would have been truly dreadful.” His eyes suddenly narrowed in thought. “Perhaps it is your mindfulness? People do seem to appreciate how reliable you are, after all.”

“Rodolphus, you must _leave_ soon, I am sure. Surely you wouldn't want to keep him waiting.” Lucius could barely keep his tone civil at this point. He deserved a medal, truly. Or at least more normal friends. 

Rodolphus laughed, somewhat airily, although he still seemed vaguely frustrated. His gaze turned colder, more serious as their eyes met.

“I must be going now, but I will visit again soon, Lucius. We still have much to plan.”

Lucius did not let his expression falter for even an instant under such scrutiny. He simply could not afford such a lapse. Rodolphus might act ridiculous at times, but he was a very dangerous man.

He really needed more normal friends.

“Indeed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More silliness then!  
> Some plot coming soon though. Maybe next chapter?  
> All comments are wonderful always, I love you all :) Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is a small story I began a while back mostly as a stress exercise, but never posted myself; after reading it over a few years later, I've decided I might as well let out with it. It's a a bit weird and more relaxed than usual, but I enjoy not thinking out my stories all that much because it helps me relax.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story; any and all comments are always welcome! Thank you for reading :)
> 
> EDIT: I've changed the way Gabriel speaks. It was mostly me experimenting with language, but on further readings it was annoying to traipse through and I decided not particularly worth it. Hopefully it is not a too unwelcome change. If it is, then forgive me! I hope it wasn't too horrible.


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